


Holiday Extension

by Kattwyllie



Category: House of Cards (US TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Explicit Language, F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28134384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kattwyllie/pseuds/Kattwyllie
Relationships: Heather Dunbar x reader
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

Your knuckles rapped against the hotel suite door loudly before pausing a moment, then using your previously appointed key card to enter the room, one of the multiple presidential suites the Ritz-Carlton had reserved for its top notch guests that weekend.

“Ms Dunbar?” Your voice called out into the living room, she was expecting you after all, “I’m sorry I’m late, the First Lady simply couldn’t decide between two dresses. You know how it is, mixing fashion and…politics.” Your breath caught in your throat as she rounded the corner from the bedroom. Sure, you knew who she was, that she was good looking, but in person, and clad in not much more than a hotel robe, she was absolutely stunning.

“Don’t worry about it.” She gave you a warm smile, “there’s still plenty of time, and I know how it is. The top priority gets taken care of first. Can I offer you a drink?..” Her voice hesitated as her hand lingered out in a greeting while the other one swayed over towards the bar cart, 

“Oh, a …y/n.” She paused briefly to shake your hand before she moved to top up her glass of champagne. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose M’am.”

“Oh you aren’t at all, not when the State’s footing the bill.” She practically smirked at you, extending a fresh glass of the bubbly towards you.

“Thank you M’am.” You raised your glass briefly toward her before taking a sip, placing it down on the coffee table as the rack of dresses along with your cosmo kit rolled in behind you. “Thanks Alice. Come back to pick everything up at seven, I’ll take care of transfers in the morning.” The girl gave you a quick nod before leaving the room.

“Your assistant isn’t staying?” Heather asked, 

“Oh, she’s not my assistant. She’s some first year fashion student from UDC they tossed my way. My assistant’s working on a Kardashian Christmas party tonight. I’m based out of California.”

“And yet you’re here?” She cocked a brow.

“When the President comes calling, you don’t exactly say no.” You returned with a small smile, sipping at your champagne, “besides, I’d rather deal with the worst of politicians than a good day with the Kardashian’s—no offence!” The older woman chuckled softly, 

“None taken.” She couldn’t help the small smile as you suddenly turned toward her, near worry etched across your features.

“Oh! Did you need someone else in the room with you? You’re more than welcome to call someone from your staff, or I can call Alice back. She just wanted to get ready for the gala herself.”

“No.” Heather’s hand quickly squeezed yours, which honestly, didn’t help your racing heart, “I’m not the President, and you’ve been vetted.”

“Not the President _yet_ , M’am.”

“So you _have_ been paying attention.” She smiled, settling into one of the higher chairs across from the mirror in the room, “you don’t need time to prepare for the gala, or are you already ready?” Her eyes drank in your form, you were dressed in a professional looking cocktail dress. Though normally when you worked you were as comfortable as you could be, but considering you were dressing the President and his faculty, you’d opted for a bit more class and uppity than normal.

“Oh, I’m not going.” You began to pick through items in your cosmo case, the occasional glance between Heather and the make up, figuring out what shades would match her skin the best. “Alice must’ve weaseled her way into a spare ticket before I even got to town.” You tugged your lower lip into your mouth as you picked up two eyeshadow pallets, eyes flickering between them and the woman in front of you before you tossed one back into the case, setting the other aside. You moved next to the curling iron, switching out the size of the barrel before plugging it in, “besides, I’m not one for fancy galas. I’ll probably grab a drink at the hotel bar before settling into some room service and pyjamas for the night.”

“That honestly sounds like a much more enjoyable evening.”

“Yeah..well the State’s not footing _my_ bill.” You laughed, moving behind Heather to take out the bun her hair was in. Your hands easily moved through her locks, going slowly in case there were any tangles you didn’t want to tug out.

“You’ve got my keycard, just order it here and carry it back to your room.” She smirked at you through the mirror as you did your best to not blush.

“Wouldn’t that be an abuse of power?” You laughed, shaking her hair out softly, doing your best to avoid her giving you a response, “were you thinking an updo or loose?”

“Aren’t you the stylist?” She teased, “what do you think?” You took a moment to compose yourself, after working with the esteemed President and his wife you were much more high strung, expecting Ms Dunbar to be on the same level as them. She however, was much more relaxed and casual, even having a soft playlist echoing through the room on her phone as you worked. 

“An updo, or at least half of one is going to show off your neck and jawline much better than leaving it all down, M’am.”

“Well then I trust you to do what you see fit.” She smiled at you through the mirror, her hand passing you your glass of champagne, “and relax honey, you can call me Heather. Do well enough tonight and I may just have to steal you away from L.A.” You did your best to hide your heatened cheeks with a heavy gulp of your drink, giving her a soft smile as you picked up the curling iron.

You ended up curling her hair, your fingers swiftly French braiding her locks starting from behind her right ear over the back of her neck, pinning the remaining pieces into a makeshift side low ponytail, readjusting and curling them when needed. You were pleasantly surprised at the ease in which conversation flitted between the two of you as you moved to start her makeup. Most of your clients either spoke about themselves the entire time, or were entirely too distracted by their phones as you worked. While this was your first weekend working with politicians, you were incredibly thankful that Heather was more than welcoming to open up to you, the two of you laughing over stories as she topped up your champagne. You leant back against the counter, your hand softly tilting her chin up so you could survey your work.

“Perfect.” You gave her a small smile, “eyes closed.” She obeyed as you shot a few coats of finishing spray, waving it dry briefly, “you’re good.” You stepped back, giving Heather a chance to survey herself in the mirror.

“And you’re even better.” The woman smiled up at you, “if I were you I’d start looking at apartments here.” You gave a soft laugh, 

“Look through the dresses. I know it’s stereotypical to wear red to a Christmas event, but the deep red one will really bring out your complexion.”

“Help yourself to more champagne.” Dunbar smiled at you before moving into the bedroom where the rack of dresses you’d pulled in awaited. You let out a hefty breath once the door shut, leaning back against the counter as you downed the rest of your glass. You’d never expected a political styling job to throw you like this, but…Heather Dunbar was something else, something drew you to her like a moth to the flame, you couldn’t back away if you helped it. Your eyes finally swept across the room, taking in the fact that the Ritz really felt it necessary to decorate their elite rooms for the holidays. There were twinkling lights around the windows, a wreath near the door, and even a tree in the corner, among other things. You rolled your eyes. You were lucky if your room had a happy holidays card slid under the door.

Heather on the other hand, as she looked through the garment bags of dresses you’d pulled for her, couldn’t help but think about how casual you were with her. Even her campaign manager, her assistant, who had been with her for years were still so uppity around her. None of them accepted a drink when she insisted, and they certainly weren’t okay with calling her Heather. In a different circumstance she could picture you in leggings and a baggy tee curled up on the couch when she returned to the suite, though maybe…that didn’t have to be under different cirumstances. 

Her hands fingered through the dresses until she found the one she knew you must have been talking about, a gorgeous red gown with a semi open, though respectably low back, the front forming a high sweetheart neckline, the red sheer fabric coming up to the shoulders, covering what would need to be covered.

Your head shot up as you heard your name called from the bedroom, quickly downing your refilled champagane.

“Yes M’am?”

“I can’t seem to get the zipper on this one.” Her voice was louder as she opened the door to the bedroom.

“Of course.” You darted across the room, careful to keep you hands to yourself as you slid the zipper up her back. You stepped back into the living room as she turned toward you, “Oh…wow…” you felt your throat suddenly dry up, your assumption on the dress looking spectacular on her was not wrong, “you..look incredible M’am.” She chuckled slightly at the way you gulped as your eyes traced over her.

“Well it’s only thanks to you.”

“Just doing my job M’am.” You stepped under the archway that spilt the open kitchen from the living room, swiftly fixing her hair from under the strap of her dress, fluffing it appropriately as you smoothed the dress. Your breath hitched as her hand encircled your wrist, 

“I do believe I told you to call me Heather.”

“Sorry M’a-Heather.” You gave her a soft smile, “that dress truly suits you.”

“And it was your first pick…I do truly hope you think about a job out here. We could definitely use you.”

“Thank you.” You did your best not to flush at her words, gulping as you moved your way around her, fixing various details of the dress or her hair. “I think you’re all ready to go.” You gave her a soft smile.

“Nearly.” She practically smirked, “I do believe I have one more thing.” Your brow scrunched at her words, a jolt shooting through you as her forefinger curled under your chin, turning your head upward to gaze at the decorations the hotel had donned the suite with. “You appear to be standing under mistletoe….”

“Oh..M’am I-“

“What did I tell you?” Her hand gently encircled your wrist and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched as she stepped toward you, “besides, it’s tradition.” A soft grin splayed on her lips she waited the brief second for you to nod, giving your consent before her lips met yours. Your arms wrapped around her neck, pulling her body against yours, you felt completely on fire, no one had kissed you like this in years. Heather tugged your hips to her, practically rolling against you in a moment of heat, she nipped at your lip before her tongue delved into your mouth, groaning at the sensation of your tongue dancing against hers. 

It was only when there was a brash knock at the door that you tore apart. Heather dropped down into the make up chair as the agent muttered something about how much time she had. Your hand grabbed a tissue, fixing her lipstick quickly, handing her the tube if she would need to reapply during dinner.

“Enjoy the gala Ms Dunbar.” You spoke before the door swung shut, Heather grasped at your arm, leaving a lipstick stained kiss on the inside of your wrist.

“Enjoy your casual evening.” She nipped at the soft skin of your wrist, “but expect some company later…we have unattended business.”

“Of course M’am.” You couldn’t help but shiver at the look she gave you over her shoulder, ever so thankful you were staying in the same hotel. Maybe you _should_ take advantage of the state paid room service before moving back to your own room?


	2. Chapter 2

A South Park marathon played on the t.v in your hotel room as you picked at the remainder of the appitizers you’d ordered hours earlier. The wings were quick to disappear, but the chips and guac aged better, able to be your snack over the hours. You had to admit, South Park wasn’t your first choice, but it was always one that when trapped with hotel room cable, you’d settle into watching. You were also incredibly happy there had been a liquor store around the corner from the Ritz, able to pick up a bottle of Pinot before you settled into your night. You were more than halfway through it when the hotel phone suddenly began to ring. You jumped, not expecting it, who even used hotel room phones for anything aside from wake up calls anyways? You quickly checked your cell, not seeing any notifications before you picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” Your voice was somewhat hesitant, somewhat confused, and a little offended that someone had interrupted your solo evening.

“Y/N?” The silky voice wafted through the receiver.

“Ms Dunbar?” Your brow scrunched, “how did you even—“

“There are some advantages to being connected to the President.” You could practically hear the smirk in her voice as you laughed.

“I feel like that’s definitely an abuse of power.” You joked, “can I…help you with something?”

“There is..this zipper seems to be in the perfect spot that I can’t reach it no matter how hard I try. I guess it’s lucky you’re still awake.”

“Of course M’am..” You shifted on the bed, ready to duck over to her room.

“Y/n…what did I tell you.” You flushed despite being over the phone.

“Heather…” you corrected yourself, “I’ll be right here.” 

Tucking your room key into the back of your phone case you slipped on the pair of sandals you’d brought with you, shutting off the t.v while you grabbed Heather’s key card out of your bag before swiftly moving through the hotel. Arriving at her room you still gave a brief knock before sliding the card through the lock, pushing into the room, the door swinging shut behind you.

“Ms Dunbar?” Despite her earlier warnings, you obeyed regular protocol, your breath hitching in your throat as she ducked out of the bedroom. Heather shot you a smirk, clad in a pair of soft pants, a tank top and warm cardigan wrapped around her upper body. “I..thought you needed help with the dress…” your voice was barely audible.

“I have to admit…I may have lured you here under false pretences.” She smiled, picking up a bottle of wine and an empty glass. Her eyes raked over you and honestly, she completely adored the fact that you were relaxed and comfortable in a pair of pyjama shorts and an oversized shirt “you’re more than welcome to leave honey, it’s up to you. Would you like a glass of wine?” Her head nodded towards the coffee table, “There may also be a triple cheese pizza I need help with.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

“I would _love_ a glass of wine.” 

Heather smiled as you moved into the room, the t.v was already playing some mindless show as she tippped the bottle to fill the fresh glass.

“How was the gala?” You asked softly, not really interested, but eager to make some form of small talk.

“Oh the usual bullshit.” Heather laughed, waving off your shock as she handed you your wine, “lots of sucking up, rubbing elbows with people you never plan on dealing with ever again. I’m sure your evening was a lot better.” You nearly snorted, 

“The cheapest room service I could get and some cable t.v? Yeah, sounds great.” You laughed, taking a hefty chug of wine.

“I’m not kidding…” she shot you a glance, “this whole political thing can be exhausting. Sometimes all you want is a night with junk food and a pretty girl by your side.”

“I-uh..M’am…” you stuttered, your cheeks flushing at her words, ducking your face from her gaze as she let out a soft laugh, her hand squeezing your thigh.

Truthfully, things felt pretty natural between the two of you as the time went by, you both laughed over the ridiculous show on the t.v, indulging in more wine than you’d expected. When the bottle was drained, Heather moved from the couch, placing it with the rest of the recycling, grabbing a fresh one from the fridge. She paused in the archway, leant against the wall as she watched you for a moment, it was exactly how she’d pictured it earlier. Your elbow was propped on the back of the couch, hand softly working its way through your loose locks while your attention was on the t.v, relaxed and at peace, a small smile on your lips. Maybe it was the warmth of it all, amidst the long, lonely campaign trail, the thought of having someone around at the end of the day that made her let out a small sigh of appreciation. The noise caught your attention, turning your head your smile morphed into a playful smirk.

“What?” Heather asked softly, a small grin splayed on her lips, more than well aware she had been caught.

“Oh nothing…” you hummed, standing from the couch as you crossed the room to her, “just appears that you’ve fallen victim to the mistletoe this time…”

Her eyes glanced upwards, confirming the fact. She felt the weight of the bottle of wine being relieved from her hand, hearing the clink of you putting it down on a table before she glanced back down. She hand’t expected you to take the lead, softly tugging at the drawstring on her pants to pull her to you. Your lips met hers lightly, testing the waters despite all the earlier flirtation, your arms wrapping around her neck. 

Heather deepened the kiss, her tongue diving into your mouth, rolling alongside yours while her hands slipped under the hem of your shirt. You felt your breath catch in your throat when her thumbs caressed across your nipples, your arms tightening around her. Her fingers pinched at your chest, a gasp breaking free from your lips pulling you from the kiss, your head dropping to her shoulder as she continued to toy with you. She chuckled at the feeling of you shuddering against her hands,

“So sensitive…” she murmured, nosing your cheek so her lips could kiss their way down your neck, her teeth ghosting over your pulse point, pulling a whimper from you, “are you this sensitive everywhere?”

“You’re more than welcome to find out.” You whispered out, daring to glance up at her eyes, the fire in your own more than evident. 

Heather smirked, kissing you gently before backing you into the bedroom, your hands swiftly ridding each other of the minimal amount of clothing you’d been dressed in. Her fingers left a path of goosebumps across your skin as they dipped lower and lower until her hand hit your pussy. You couldn’t help the moan as her thumb circled around your clit, one of your hands wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her impossibly close to you as your hips rolled in time with her thumb. Your body arched, rocking up on your toes to give her easier access, groaning at the feeling of her fingertips swiping through your folds. You felt electrified already and she was barely touching you. You knew you’d be completely done for the second her fingers began their assault, and you couldn’t afford missing out on what you really wanted in that moment.

“Wait..” you breathed out. Heather’s gaze shot to you, concern etched through it as she searched your eyes.

“We can stop-“

“No!” You shot back, entirely too eager, kissing her softly, “just..need to taste you..” She grinned at that, letting you drop her down to the bed as you crawled on top of her.

Your lips hit hers in a deep kiss, nipping at her lip gently before settling between her thighs, kissing at the supple skin, your teeth oh so softly ghosting over the spots of your kisses. Darting your tongue out you swiped through her lower lips, flicking at her clit, smirking at the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her hips rolled toward the contact. You settled in easily, greedily beginning your assault on her pussy, groaning over the sweetened taste of her juices as you lapped and sucked around her, fucking her with your mouth. A soft ‘ _fuck’_ bounced off the walls of the room as your lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it into your mouth in the same moment that you sunk a finger into her wetness, pumping in time with the way your tongue flicked against her swollen nub. As her hips began to thrust against you in the same rhythm you slid a second finger in, increasing the pace, curling pressure up against the spongey spot inside her. One of Heather’s hands reached down, cupping at the back of your head, her fingers lightly toying with your hair in encouragement. You hummed at the gesture, the vibrations causing her to gasp out, her hand tightening against your head, you could feel her walls fluttering against your fingers. Knowing she was close you moved your mouth back to her clit, lapping at it with your tongue before your lips wrapped around it, your fingers pumping with more power, dragging across her gspot with each thrust. A quiet yelp and small string of moans escaped her lips, the hand she had laced through your locks tightened, pullling heavily as he thighs shook around you. You pulled off her clit, beginning to slow your fingers as you fucked her through her orgasm, letting her catch her breath before kissing your way up her body.

“Christ…” She muttered, her hand gently playing with your hair as she came back to life. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that it had been a while, the stress of the campaign getting to her, lusting for utter relaxation, or if it was just you, but in that moment she truly didn’t care.

Rolling over you Heather caught your lips in a breathless kiss, swallowing your whimpers and moans as her hand returned to your practically dripping pussy. She wasted no time in giving you just what you wanted, plunging two fingers easily into your soaking walls, pumping them eagerly. You broke free from her lips, whimpering as hers found a new home in the crook of your neck. Your hands dug into her skin, your body already burning, every inch of you completely engulfed in a flame that her fingers only stoked larger.

“Fuck, you really are sensitive.” She murmured, her breath hot against your skin. She could feel the fluttering of your walls already against her fingers, when she curled her digits, dragging right across your gspot they squeezed tightly, your hips rocking up against her body before your back arched off the bed, your head thrown back against the pillows. 

_“Heather…please…”_ your words were airy, whined through the room. The other woman chuckled against your ear.

“You can come for me honey, I know you want to.” Bringing her thumb back to your clit she rubbed quickly, increasing the pressure with each roll while her fingers continued thrusting into your heat. Your body shuddered beneath her, your eyes screwed shut, lips parted, panting heavily. 

_“Fuck! Ohhh! Oh fuuck.”_ Giving you some relief she lifted her thumb, she could feel your swollen nub pulsing beneath it, her fingers slowed, thrusts becoming shallower and shallower until she pulled them from you. You watched with half open eyes as she sucked them into her mouth, cleaning them of your juices.

 _“Mmm…_ shame you’re so spent already.” She smirked. You let out a breathy laugh, tugging her to you for a gentle kiss as you rolled toward her, collapsing onto your stomach as you broke the kiss. You hummed at the feeling of her hand tracing patterns on your bare skin, melting into the plush pillow in your arms.

“You know…you didn’t have to go with such extreme meausres…you already had my vote.” You teased, the gleam in your eye ever evident as Heather barked out a laugh. The hand on your back swiftly smacking at your ass, pulling a playful shriek from you.

“If I didn’t before, I better have it now.” You lifted your head to accept the kiss, smiling against her lips before you pushed up to your knees, a small sigh escaping your lips.

“I should get back to my room…”

“Stay…” Her hand reached up, stroking the side of your cheek.

“Won’t it look bad if I’m seen sneaking out of your room in the morning?”

“You have to come pick up the dress anyways.” She shrugged, “it’ll just look like you’re doing your job.”

“In my pyjamas?” Heather tugged you back down into the bed, 

“I’m sure I can spare some clothes for you to borrow. You can give them back in Iowa.”

“Iowa?” You cocked a brow.

“I told you. I need a stylist for the rest of the campaign, and hopefully longer.” She kissed you lightly, “we can talk pay in the morning.”

“Mmm…” you nuzzled against her, “what about benefits?”

“Oh we’ll go over those too…” she nipped at your lip, “I already know what I’m having for breakfast.”


End file.
